


We Grow Like You Do

by Bfly1225



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Hananoai: AU where you grow flowers on your head if you feel love towards someone, Siblings, Struggles to tag fic, also known as my personal spite AU towards hanahaki, author makes their own timeline, flowers of feelings, hananoai, starts with the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28162695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bfly1225/pseuds/Bfly1225
Summary: Colonel Peter Walter I created three robots to start, and shipped them off to a war, touching gently the flower he'd grown for Delilah.He cannot know what he's created. Beings that could feel.Enough that they begin to grow the flowers that grew from the scalps of all humans, for their loved ones and for themselves. for the little things in love they adored.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. A Beginning, And Another Beginning.

Rabbit remembered an awful lot from her life, but not a lot about Before. 

Before she could think, and life was all new. She knew she had existed- her body thriving off a boiler, the steam from which caught on metal plates and began the long history of her rusting- but she hadn’t really, honestly, without a doubt been her. The body had been her. The processor stole bits and pieces of a workshop and greasy tools and cans of oil. But other than that, nothing. 

Until the blue matter. 

She remembered everything right after that very clearly. 

Colonel Peter Walter, standing somewhere off. She could not move her body because she was not attached to one, but her eyes roamed the room. A creature in a cage. Three beautiful glass flowers with petals that arched off the flower and had lightbulbs in them. Peter Walter I came back and seemed incredibly excited for a moment, before pointing to a cage with a creature. 

“Rabbit,” He said, along with a few different words that sounded like crackling to her audio processors, and then, once more, “Rabbit.” He pointed at the small creature.

“Rrrrrr-aa-bbit.” She mimicked, her newfound voice jumping around. The man laughed excitedly and lifted her disconnected head into the air, sprouting bright blossoms above the goggles he’d rested on his head, along with a bright teal flower that rested just above his ear that wound around the back of his neck in a way that could have been beautiful or could have been unsafe. 

Rabbit didn’t understand back then, but she did now. The joy of creation appeared on the brow that had sweat while he labored to create her.

She couldn’t remember quite when those started disappearing. 

War was the worst. The Spine decided this awfully early. It was just copper elephants, he thought- it wasn’t like they were humans, or like they even thought like he did (and really, he wasn’t supposed to think all that much unless it was battle strategy), but it still felt wrong to hurt the copper elephants and the gross undead creatures inside. 

It only took three days, but still, it took too long until they returned to the manor, and finally got repaired to work again.

The Spine. . . pretty sure this was the first time the robots talked amongst each other. 

“Ni-i-ice to be home.” Rabbit glitched out with her front panel open and tubes connecting in the back of her head. 

“Is this home?” He asked, glancing at his body as he sat on the table. “I mean, do we have a home?” 

“I think it’s home,” The gold one declared, from where he was messing with tools on work bench. There wasn’t room to hook him upalong with Rabbit and he wasn’t as mobile as The Spine. “We have our own room and everything!” 

“Does that make it home?” The Spine asked, trying to wiggle over to get a better look at the golden robot. There hadn’t been a name given to that one- between the Weekend War, and the War To End All Wars, the command only lumped him in with The Spine and Rabbit, who were named for design features or first words, or they called him “the third one,” which. . . wasn’t much of a name. 

It didn’t have to be. 

“I was jo-o-king.” Rabbit pointed out dryly. 

“Ah.” The Spine felt a little silly for taking that literally, now. 

“Humor is what makes the world go ‘round!” The other crowed. He seemed. . . rather excitable.

One of the twins came back and began tinkering with Rabbit’s innards, and the cooper robot fell silent. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s. . . money.” The Spine pointed out, glancing at the mud-coated body that still needed to be cleaned and have the dents buffed out, not to mention his left arm had been all wrong for days-

“Oh, that’s a human’s point of view. We don’t have jobs, we’re just robots, silly! No money for us!” 

“Hey, put that down,” said one of the twins. Peter Walter. . . II? Maybe III? The Spine decided it was Peter Walter II, for his own sanity. 

“Sorry,” He muttered into his chest like a human child. 

“Lads, we’re going to make some upgrades today.” Declared Peter Walter II proudly, with quite the air of a man that was delivering the news of something amazing. The Spine also decided just to call him Two. It was easier. 

“Up-upgrades?” Rabbit asked. 

“Upgrades.” Returned Two. Three- Peter Walter III, The Spine mentally clarified- walked in. 

“Dear old Dad thinks that a bunch of robots playing some pretty songs at a nice, big fair might fetch us some money so we can found a whole fancy robotics company.” Three explained, walking past his brother to the filing cabinet of plans. 

“Oh! Music!” The golden one clapped. “. . . I’ve not a clue how to make music.” 

“Well, that’s part of the upgrade.” Two explained, popping a gear off Rabbit, who did something that looked a bit like a wince or what might have been a glitch. 

“Along with making you all pretty,” Three muttered as he tugged leaves of paper out of the cabinet and examined them.

“I think we’re all beautiful,” The golden one- oh, The Spine was done with calling the robot nothing. 

“We should name him.” The Spine pointed out, twitching his head towards the golden robot. The twins were silent for a second. 

“I suppose we should.” Two blinked, seeming a touch astonished. 

“Why, look at that, Pete. They think.” Three said wryly. 

“Oh, shut up, Walt.”

“. . . What-what name do you want, anyways?” Rabbit turned her eyes to the unnamed robot, who was investigating the workshop with an almost child-like wonder. 

“Why, I’d never thought about it.” He stopped, turning to look at her, whirring and clicking all the way. Something in him realigned itself, and he spent a moment recalibrating. 

“How do we even name him?” Three asked, hardly looking up from a plan he’d laid out on the table and begun looking at. “It’s not like he has any really defining features. He practically looks just like the other two.”

“I. . . don’t think that’s accurate,” The Spine pointed out. 

“What about The Jon?” The unnamed robot chimed, unexpectedly, apparently operable again.

The twins caught each other's glance and shrugged. 

“Sure.” 

“Great! SO I have a name!” The Jon declared happily, clapping his hands together a few times, letting the sound of metal gently hitting metal fill the workshop.

“You’re leaking something, The Jon.” The Spine informed him. Something green was escaping The Jon’s temple. 

“Hm?” The Jon looked down at himself. 

“My god,” Two said, dropping a tool that he’d been using to work on Rabbit. The Spine heard it metallically clang against what he presumed was the boiler.

“N-n-no, just leave me open, that’s fi-fi-fine.” 

“Walt, he’s growing a flower!” Two exclaimed, having to stand on his toes to level with The Jon’s head. 

The Jon whirred and lowered himself as more small green steam borked from out of a seam in his head, and through the hole left by a missing bolt.

They were small and determined, sitting close to the metal that they climbed through and blooming in soft yellows and pinks with delicate leaves. Two reached up and traced them gently with rough fingers. 

“How is this. . . ?” Two trailed off. 

“What? What is it?” The Jon’s eyes roamed in their sockets unnaturally. 

“Somebody put seeds in his. . .?” Three suggested, joining his brother. 

“No, they grew far too fast to have been normal flowers. Those are soul flowers, plain and simple.”

The flowers wilted slightly under the scrutiny. 

“Should we tell Dad?” Asked Three quietly. Two pursed his lips. 

“. . . Well, he can figure it out by himself.” He replied, quietly. “Do you think you know anybody who can get us a decent top hat fast?” 

“Maybe, I-” The twins started out in a deep, whispered conversation. 

“So I guess I’ll just sit here. That’s cool too.” Rabbit dryly stated, rolling her eyes in an uncharacteristic display of human body language that she must have picked up from somewhere on the way home. 

“Yeah.” The Spine agreed dryly, trying to figure out how to wiggle across the table. 

“It’s. . . going to be a strange move.” Rabbit lamented. 

“What’s that, Rabbit?” The Spine asked, thrashing a little bit more violently than he wanted to. He made a mental readjustment and started again. 

“War to music.”

“They can’t be all that different, can they?” 

“. . . Perhaps not.” Rabbit thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know much about music.”

“Well. . . neither do I.” The Spine confessed. 

“Of course you don’t, you were built like me.” 

“Well, was I?” The Spine moved his namesake in emphasis. 

“You know what I mean.” 

The Spine smiled, and didn’t notice as green sprouts pushed up through the grooves in his head.


	2. A World's Fair, Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They prepare, and The Jon has the pleasure of being our host for the chapter.

“We look rather snazzy, don’t we, chaps?” Asked The Jon, tugging on his new suspenders. He adored them- all stretchy and red and very, very cool- and the other clothes the twins had hooked them up with. He was looking at his reflection in The Spine’s chestplate as the taller robot was trying to button up his shirt. 

“There’s a mirror over there.” The Spine pointed across the dressing room helpfully. 

The Jon turned exactly 90 degrees to the right, where Rabbit was fastening another belt around her stomach, her copper fingers fighting with the clasp mechanism. 

“Ah! Hello Rabbit!” 

Rabbit took a moment to wave, smiling. “Hello The Jon!

“N-” Spine sighed. “No, The Jon. I meant behind you.”

“Ah! So you did!” The Jon turned around. “. . . That is a window, not a mirror.” 

“. . . Are you alright?” The Spine asked. 

“I’m wonderful!” The Jon beamed- which he could do now, very exciting- and more flowers dangled into his vision. 

The flowers had started appearing when they got home. He’d find himself delighted, and the flowers would find themselves appearing, and he’d get more delighted, and more flowers would appear. They now tangled with his hair and crawled up the brim of the snazzy new hat. One crawled up his throat once, and one of the twins had had to gently remove it so he could practice singing with the new throat they gave him. 

Such few parts really remained from before they made everyone beautiful. Rabbit’s new faceplates and lower jaw gleamed in the sunlight. The Spine was all sharp edges and was shined enough so as to reflect his surrounding almost perfectly. 

The Jon himself reflected a gold hue onto the world around him, almost like he was glowing. 

They’d taught him how to play the guitar, a funny stringed instrument that made delightful sound when you plucked and strummed the strings. His fingers were covered in a somewhat delicate material that squished like the fingers of humans did, so the strings didn’t protest loudly against his bronze fingers. They’d also taught him how to play all sorts of other instruments, and how to transcribe the notes between all the instruments, and how to cover songs 

They looked like shining metal humans, even if they didn’t really move like them. Their limbs could only move so much at a time before they needed to pause, and moving more than one thing at once was a lot. 

Not to mention calibrating, but thankfully, they’d be standing still during songs, meaning they wouldn’t have to calibrate their positions in the middle of singing. 

All in all, The Jon was supremely excited to go and sing.

The twins came in as The Spine had begun fiddling with his collar, and The Jon had finally found a mirror to admire himself in (The Spine had picked him up and turned him toward it like a wind up toy), and Rabbit was fussing with her hat. 

“Almost ready to head out?” One of them asked. 

“Almost, tw- Peter.” The Spine replied, shrugging on a trenchcoat with a delicate range of movement, halting and releasing steam as he tried his best not to rip the cloth. One of the twins stepped in to help. 

“You’re all adjusting to clothes pretty well.” The other pointed out, coming over and stuffing a top hat over The Jon’s new curly hair. He beamed at the human, thanking him. 

“They’re. . . Interesting.” The Spine said, glancing at himself in the mirror and adjusting his tie. 

“I think they’re fun.” Rabbit declared as she fastened a final belt around her boiler. 

“You’re only supposed to have one of those, Rabbit.” The twin helping The Spine pointed out. “Like Spine’s got. Or Jo- well, Jon’s got suspenders, I guess. But you’re only supposed to have one, it’s to hold up your pants.” 

“We-well, I think they look gr-gr-gra-and, Pete. It’s fashion!” Rabbit declared. Peter and The Spine sighed in near-unison. 

“Well, Rabbit, so long as you’re happy.” Peter went back to double checking The Spine’s coat. 

“I am!” Rabbit stubbornly declared, but no flowers sprouted from her head.

“Well, I think we’re ready to head out now. You folks ever heard of the world fair?” 

The Jon had not.


End file.
